


Love Around the Cubicle

by bananabun



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Derek is pining, I know it's off season but hey, M/M, New York AU, Office AU, Office Romance, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omega Verse, Stiles has no idea, Tech Support Stiles, also a christmas story??, bit of a Cinderella Story vibe, but they're still discriminated against, erica and stiles are office husband and wife, heat details tbd, omegas have decent rights, stiles is a young professional still figuring it out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananabun/pseuds/bananabun
Summary: Stiles was excited to score an IT job right out of college with a prominent New York City company, Vulf Enterprises. Three years into working in "The Dungeon," what he and Erica fondly refer to the basement the IT department operates out of, Stiles is beginning to see the issues with his department - specifically, his sexist supervisor.When Stiles randomly has to make a visit to some of the higher floors, where executives roam free in their snazzy suits and designer briefcases, he has a chance meeting with the CEO of the company, Derek Hale. Little does he know, sharing an elevator with the Alpha for a few floors starts a chain of events that changes his life.Join us for a simple, no frills, modern a/b/o office romance!
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 24
Kudos: 247





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimers:  
> So, I don't really know anything about IT/tech departments, so please suspend disbelief if necessary. In general, I try to be vague about the things I don't know about - so if it doesn't seem accurate, let's just pretend it is in this universe.
> 
> Also, fun little note: This meet-cute is actually based on a real life scenario a Tumblr person experienced and posted about! Thank you, WhiteGirlsAintShit, wherever you are - I somehow remembered this scene from 10+ years ago.
> 
> On chapter updates: I'm pretty bad at ever finishing a fic, but I've kept this story pretty simple, straight-forward and short to help mitigate that. Here's hoping! Rating my increase with story progression.
> 
> Thanks! Enjoy - let me know what you think!

“Hey-- Stiles,” Erica voices, looking up from a stack of paperwork to make eye contact with him in the room full of interns. She’s got two fingers to her bluetooth, maintaining eye contact but clearly paying attention to whatever the other person is saying. Stiles stands frozen, anticipating any number of new tasks she’ll spring on him; likewise, the interns around her seem tense at the awaiting order, as if it will affect them, too. For a beta, Erica truly does have a way of commanding the room like an alpha. 

Stiles is probably the only dynamic in the room not actually threatened by her no-nonsense tone, despite his status as an omega. He and Erica have been close friends since college, bonding over common interests like Mario Kart and aerosolized cheese. It was actually Stiles who referred the beta to applying to work at this company, Vulf Enterprises. He had secured an entry level position in their IT department a few years back, and he noticed they were hiring for HR. Erica was on board just a month after him.

In the three years that they’ve been here, she’s moved up the corporate ladder quickly. Granted, she wasn’t a manager yet, but she was a department lead. And that meant that she was always commanding someone to do something. She was a bulldog in this office, and everyone knew it. Stiles thought it was hilarious.

And yet, he still couldn’t escape her wrath himself. Erica has always had a propensity to use Stiles for her own nefarious needs, and that still holds true in the workplace. Honestly, Stiles doesn’t mind - but he comes up to her department to see her, not be shooed away.

After a beat of more silence as Erica listens to her bluetooth, she mutters a concise sendoff to whoever is on the other end and turns to Stiles. “I need you to be my runner today.” It’s less of a question and more of an order.

Stiles scrunches up his nose at her. “Erica--” he starts, but she cuts him off.

“Stiles, you’re already up here fucking around in my department, you should at least do some work while you’re on company time. Now, we’ve got fruit baskets coming in for employee appreciation and I need you to make sure they get to every floor and department. I’ve been notified that they’ve arrived in the mailroom, so hop to it, Stilinski.” She turns back to the paperwork below her while Stiles sputters.

“Wha-- Erica, you have a room full of interns right here!” 

“Yeah, and they’re busy doing the actual work I’ve assigned them.” Erica looks up again, this time imploring. “I need you to do this for me. Isaac is out with the flu, and I’ve got double the workload. C’mon.”

Stiles tries to fight it, he really does-- he stands there with his mouth open, another argument on the tip of his tongue. But… a couple beats pass, he closes his mouth, and he’s nodding begrudgingly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on it. You owe me, though! And no more abusing my friendly visits. Despite what you think, we also have work down in the Dungeon!” Erica rolls her eyes at that.

“Please, Stilinski, you don’t fool me. You’ve practically got all your grind work doing itself so you can game all day, and you brag about it all the time, too.” She gives him a pointed look.

Stiles blushes, a sheepish smile now gracing his lips. “Well, Ms. Reyes, I never,” he says as he back peddles out of the room. “I’ve got important fruit to deliver, can’t talk right now, so sorry to leave you to it.” He salutes to her eye roll, then turns around and lightly jogs to the elevator to catch a ride down to the mailroom. The grin is still on his lips; he doesn’t really mind the task she gave him, but he can’t help but put up a fight for contrarian’s sake.

He plugs in his ear buds as the elevator dings and he boards it, selecting the floor he needs, which is down the numbers and not far off from where he works-- the Dungeon. His floor, of course, was below the numbers, down in the basement right with the supercomputers he takes care of for a living. Bopping his head to the piano jazz playlist in his ears, he watches as different shades of grey and black powersuits come in and out of the elevator on his descent. All of them look beyond busy, lugging their suitcases and file folders with them everywhere they go. None of them pay much mind to him in his soft blue button down, haphazardly rolled up to the elbows to keep him cool around all the machines he works with, his black jeans and black vans slip-ons. 

He muses momentarily to himself if he looks like he doesn’t work here. Of course, he does work here, and dress code doesn’t really matter that much when you’re down in the Dungeon, but up here with the business men and women? He probably looks like some college kid that wandered off the street, or worse, some college kid working part time as a flower-delivery-type guy sans the flowers.

Stiles shakes his head. He’s used to the assumption - being an omega in a corporate workplace like this has its challenges, after all, but there’s no use wasting his thoughts on it. The elevator stops promptly at his desired floor then, and he hops out in a cheery mood making a beeline straight for Meredith in the mailroom.

“‘Sup, Meredith, how’re the grandkids?” he prompts with a grin, spinning his key card around his finger as he comes to prop himself in the entryway. The older woman perks up, turns around to greet Stiles with a smile.

“My goodness, Stiles, good to see you again,” Meredith pulls him into a hug, which manages to surprise Stiles just about every time he sees her. “What are you doing here?” she asks as they break the hug.

“Erica’s dirty work, as usual,” he shakes his head remorsefully. “Fruit baskets?”

Meredith hands over the fruit baskets with a rolling cart. She gives him instructions for where each will need to go and sends him on his way.

Stiles has a list of locations in his shirt pocket. The first part of the assignment is easy – he’s familiar with most of the lower floors. As he starts to go higher, however, he sees floors he’s never seen before. With only two more departments to deliver to, a man with a particularly pristine suit boards the elevator. Stiles eyes him from the corner of his eye, spots a very expensive looking watch on his wrist. 

When the man hesitates, Stiles remembers that his cart is blocking the button pad. Right. 

“Um, floor?” Stiles asks, taking out one earbud as he looks to the man standing next to him. Their eyes meet and Stiles very quickly realizes who this guy is. It’s Derek Hale, CEO of the company, the most eligible alpha bachelor in New York City. And no, he does not know that of his own volition - Lydia is constantly shoveling that high society tabloid drama bullshit down his throat.

The CEO doesn’t answer immediately, of course. He takes a moment to assess Stiles. Maybe Stiles should just press the very top button, but what if that’s not where he’s going? 

“Top floor,” Derek finally says, and Stiles releases a small breath of relief. He reaches forth and presses the last button on the keypad, then his next floor, and the elevator springs to life. 

The elevator is silent as it goes up. Stiles holds his ear bud in his fingers and debates whether he should put it back in or not. He decides not, lest it offends the big boss.

He’s never seen Derek Hale in real life, despite working here for three years. He figures it’s because he never has a reason to go this far up into the company building, but still. The dude’s sort of a mystery. 

Stiles sneaks another glance at the CEO, only to find him staring back. Derek immediately averts his gaze, only to clear his throat a moment later. Stiles hears him shift his weight, sees him turn his body slightly to face Stiles.

“... Fruit baskets?” Derek asks. Stiles looks to his cart, only two baskets left. He looks back to the CEO who, honestly, looks a bit constipated.

“Uh, yep,” he says. “For employee appreciation.”

“Ah,” Derek replies. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He just stares.

“Yep.” Stiles repeats. “Erica’s idea, I think.” He might as well put in a good word for Erica.

“Erica,” Derek repeats, like it’s an important detail. Stiles mm-hm’s, but then the elevator is stopping on the floor for his deliveries. With his cart halfway out the elevator, Derek asks another question. “Will I see you on my floor with a fruit basket?” 

Stiles stops, thinking. He pulls the list of stops out from his pocket and doesn’t see the CEO’s floor - the top floor - listed. He looks to the man before him. “Uh, you may have to make a special request. You’re not on my list.” 

Stiles makes an apologetic face. He thinks it’s a little odd that the CEO would want an employee appreciation fruit basket, but he feels bad he was left out anyway. He shrugs at the man before fully exiting the elevator and getting back to the task at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm on Tumblr as vexed-n-hexed


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) Hi it's another chapter!

A week passes by like every other week previous, and Stiles finds himself sitting at his desk during his lunch hour like usual. He’s reclined back in his office chair on his phone, his empty tupperware sitting finished on his desk - some pretty bomb-ass rice and beans, if he says so himself. 

He’s texting Danny from high school. They’ve been collaborating on an app design for the past few months, a mental health community app that leverages push notifications for simple calls for support, or cries for help, across an individual’s support system. Danny’s an omega, too, but Stiles thinks it's funny they’ve ended up friends and working on this passion project together - in high school, Stiles was usually the target of ridicule from Danny’s friend group, though the popular omega never participated in the bullying himself. 

Either way, Stiles considers it all water under the bridge. High school is fucked for everyone, and he and Danny get along just fine now. In fact, they’ve worked so well together over the last few months that Stiles is beginning to get excited. Sure, maybe this app idea is more of a non-profit service idea than the next tech start up, but… it’s wholly their own. And that’s fucking rad.

Before he can finish texting his thoughts to the other omega, Stiles’ supervisor emerges from around the corner with a sour look on his face and sets his sights on him.

Stiles glances at his monitor - he still has 15 minutes left in his lunch hour - then back at his approaching boss, Adrian Harris. The guy really doesn’t know computers for shit, but he’s that type of career middle man who’s adapted and lasted through the years by sheer force of mediocrity. To make matters worse, the dude has a serious superiority complex because of his supervisor status. Stiles has always figured the beta wished that he was an alpha, but it’s not like they’ve ever had a discussion about it.

“Uh, hey, man. What’s up?” Stiles asks, dropping his feet down from where they’re propped up on his desk. He locks his phone and moves it face down on his thigh, giving his full attention to the beta. Harris stops in front of him and puts his hands on his hips, posturing. 

The beta purses his lips expectantly before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “I sent you an email? I need those reports as soon as possible. Or are you just going to slack off all day?” he asks, his tone dripping with condescension. 

Stiles blinks. “...uh, it’s my break–”

“I need those reports now, Stilinski. If you’re finished with your food, you can get back to work.” he interrupts, scoffing. “Honestly, you give an inch, they take a mile.” he adds slowly, making Stiles blush with frustration despite the omega’s best efforts to not give a fuck with this asshole. 

Stiles’ throat clicks as he swallows his retort. “I’ll get them done as soon as I can,” he says.

Harris only nods. “I want them in my inbox within the hour, omega. I don’t want to have to write you up for poor work ethic.” 

Stiles takes a moment to cool his head as he watches Harris stomp back to his shoebox office on the other end of the basement. He leans his head back and releases a sigh, lamenting his luck ending up under this dickhead’s supervision.

Nonetheless, the work has to be done. Stiles turns back to his desk and quickly finishes his text to Danny before pushing his empty lunch container away and turning to his monitor. He pulls up his email and sees what Harris was talking about right at the top of his feed. Clicking it, he scrolls through and huffs out a breath of disbelief. This dude can’t actually be serious… it’s his fucking task. Harris didn’t even bother repackaging the info, just forwarded the email with all the previous correspondence. This was clearly something upper management requested the beta do himself, but of course the douchebag pushed it off onto his omega subordinate. Fucking figures.

Stiles stares at the information for a while, debating what to do. He supposes he could go to HR, he knows Erica would be on his side, but… it just seems like such a hassle. And omegas who make waves don’t last. Instead, he just grits his teeth and begins on his boss’ busywork, like he always does, because then he can just go home at the end of the day and forget it even happened. 

***

Weeks go by and it’s December now, and Stiles is starting to actually stress at work. Because Stiles just keeps getting more of Harris’ work, and it’s beginning to affect the progress of the projects he’s actually responsible for overseeing.

Stiles is taking another lunch break upstairs on Erica’s floor to escape the onslaught of assignments from his supervisor. He overslept this morning and was only able to grab two leftover frozen pizza slices from his fridge before leaving for work. His schedule is totally thrown off this week since he’s been staying later at work to try and catch up. He doesn’t even bother heating up the pizza. He just wants to sit and not do anything for 30 minutes.

He tries to keep up with Erica’s conversation, chiming in with oohs and ahhs where it’s appropriate, until Erica finally rolls her eyes and cuts the bullshit.

“Stiles. You’re not even participating in this conversation. What’s up with you?” she asks, arching a brow. Stiles blinks at her sheepishly.

“I’m just kinda out of it this week, sorry. What were you saying?” he says, yawning on cue. Erica rolls her eyes.

“The company holiday party! It’s two weeks - you remember, right?” she asks. 

Stiles leans his head on his hand, tilting it to the ceiling as he lets her words roll over him. Truthfully, he had forgotten about the holiday party. It’s always been a blast for them to get dressed up and go together, getting drunk with their colleagues. Every year they pick holiday themed coordinated outfits to wear together. Last year, he and Erica decided to go all out in ugly christmas sweaters, and it was a hit. 

Stiles thinks about when the party would be - right after work on the last day before their two week company holiday vacation time. It’s also the last day of Q4… Stiles thinks about the work he’s behind on, all due before the quarter ends. Quickly, Stiles goes from looking forward to the fun party to stressing over his work. He pulls out his phone and pulls up his planner app where he’s been keeping his schedule organized.

Erica continues. “The party should be extra fun this year - rumor has it that Derek Hale is going to come. Apparently, he’s been skulking around the lower floors asking about an omega lately, and it has the ladies all aflutter.” Erica pauses, seeing that Stiles is back to ignoring her and focusing on his phone instead. “Stiles, we need to plan our outfits.” She nudges his leg with her foot.

Stiles looks up at her, then back to his phone, sporting a frown. Erica thrusts her chin forward, her expression plainly asking him to just say what he’s thinking.

“Well, I don’t know if I can go this year…” Stiles says slowly, much to her displeasure. He really can’t. He has too much to get done, and he’s going to need the extra time after work to finish his projects. Plus, he doesn’t even want to think about having to spend mental energy prepping for the party… he’d rather just go home and relax after he’s reached his deadlines. The outfit thing with Erica is fun, but it just sounds like a chore this year.

Erica levels him with a look. “Stiles. This is our thing. You can’t not go! Why the hell not?”

Stiles lowers his phone and looks at his friend. “I… well, I’m a bit behind on my work right now.”

Erica looks confused. “That doesn’t sound like you. What happened?” she asks. Stiles purses his lips, unhappy with this whole situation, and averts his gaze as he thinks of how to explain.

“Nothing really, I just got behind, is all.” he says weakly. He checks the time on his phone, anything to escape the scrutiny of Erica Reyes. Shit– now that he thinks about it, he actually does have an important phone appointment in 10 minutes. He stands up quickly, balling up the ziploc baggie from his pizza lunch. “I have a call scheduled, I gotta head back down.” 

Erica scoffs, turning her body to face him as he flees the break room. “This conversation isn’t over, Stilinski!” she shouts as she watches him retreat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Stiles is someone who has his shit together enough to have a consistent skin care routine? What do you think are the self care/mental health routines he has down pat, and which ones are the ones he's working on and has a 2-steps-forward-1-step-back vibe on?
> 
> Not for any particular story element, I'm just working from home and these thoughts in regards to myself plague me every waking moment, so it's kinda interesting to take myself out of the question and think of it in terms of the characters who live inside my head.
> 
> Anyway, today my neighbor knocked on my door to ask if I accidentally took her package since our unit numbers are kind of similar, and I was so flustered by having to answer my door and talk to someone that I ended up answering her question in a really bizarre way that definitely made it seem like I *did* take her package and that I was trying to lie very poorly about it straight to her face. And I definitely pretended not to be home while she knocked for 5 minutes, then awkwardly answered anyway when it was clear she could hear me since I live in a tiny studio with thin walls. It was awful. 
> 
> Okay that's all :)


End file.
